


To Mend A Heart

by Creativitee



Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M, OC Fantasy AU, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-14 10:47:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13588467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Creativitee/pseuds/Creativitee
Summary: OC drabble (well, novel) that I'm posting here because google docs is a bitch





	1. Connor

Happily ever after.

 

That was how every story Connor had ever read ended. Whether they began relatively happy, or in the most depressing and painful way. No matter how many twists and turns of plotline. And you could forget about how many countless wringers the main protagonists were put through. They would always end like a neatly wrapped little package, a cute little ribbon and bow sat on top with a little tag that read ‘The End’ right along the dotted line. Overtly swirly and fancy script announcing at the very last page that our main characters had finally reached their final three words.

 

Their ‘Happily ever after’.

 

If any of these stories were a reality, if any of them had been a nonfiction tale rather than just fairytale, then the outcomes would have been vastly different. The villain would get away with scandal, treason, even murder. There would be no such things as an seemingly endless abundance of kindly side characters willing to go an extra mile or two to help the main protagonists meet again and thus, find their true love. And forget about the fair maiden meeting her prince charming in the first place, becoming separated somehow, and then the both of them overcoming any obstacle that may come their way, no matter how large or dangerous, to finally be together once more with their one, true, love.

 

The outcome of any sort of happy ending was far-fetched, absurd, and illogical given half the hurdles the main characters had to jump to get there. The stories were completely unbelievable, excessively charming, and all of the protagonists were complete and lovable sweethearts.

 

All and all, it made it extremely easy for Connor to explain why they were the only works of fiction he had ever chosen to read.

 

He was just closing a freshly finished storybook, adding it to a pile of stories he’d already finished that looked about ready to topple over. He fully planned to take all of the books in the pile back down to the library and back to their original spots where they belonged so as to make room for a brand new pile of unknown but predictable selections that’d he’d hopefully enjoy just as much, but he knew he would have to make two trips to carry it all before he could pick out any more stories.

 

He lifted about half of the stack off of his desk, when a sharp rap sounded on his door, the door itself swinging open just half a moment later.

 

The guardsman that stood in the doorway cleared his throat to both announce his presence and make sure he had Connor’s attention. He was a short but stocky older man, whose name Connor couldn’t quite place at the current moment, clad in shining onyx armor that seemed just slightly too big on his frame and a mustache bushier than the hedges that lined the maze in the palace gardens. He never seemed to be away from the king and queen’s sides, except for when he was taking care of the prized horses at the stables that he seemed to adore so much, constantly going above their majesties requests and more, no matter what it was. He appeared to be very keen on keeping his role as head of the royal guard, despite it being a role that never appeared to last long given the majesties short tempers.

 

“Your highness…” The man began, snapping Connor back to attention. “The king and queen request your presence in the throne room urgently.”

 

Of course they did.

 

Connor took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Not once in his life had he been called down to the throne room, to the great hall, or to the gardens, for a good thing. There had always been something he had done wrong that he discovered when he arrived. He would be punished, and then sent on his way with the order that all of the castle staff ignore any request or question he may have for the next week or so, to teach him a lesson. To grind it deep in his brain that whatever he had done was wrong and should never be done again. But he always seemed to stumble on more things that were wrong and improper, being called down to face his parents formally at least once a week, and minor punishment being doled out daily for smaller mishaps he seemed to always cause. it would be so much easier, in his opinion, to just spend a day getting him up to speed on every rule and regulation he should never so much as push, much less break.

 

But he had a pretty good feeling that would never happen. The rules always seemed to be changing, he would never be able to keep up with every law his parents created for living and behaving properly in the castle, so he just accepted the punishments and moved on with the day, doing his best to just keep his head down and skirt around anything that he may do wrong.

 

“Did they say what for?” He asked the guard quietly, setting down the books he had been holding back down gingerly onto his desk. The man shook his head, causing his armor to make noisy clattering sounds as it banged and scraped together.

 

“No, your highness, but they do have something down there that makes me suggest we hurry and get a move on. It’s already seemed to have pushed the two of them far past the end of their ropes, and it had only been there for but a few minutes before they sent me to come and get you. It’s really testing everyone’s patience.”

 

Connor was puzzled. “What ‘thing’?” He asked, adjusting and smoothing a few wrinkles out of his garbs as he walked out the door and past the guard. “You’re speaking as if they have some sort of monster waiting down in the throne room for me.”

 

“Ah,” the guard began apprehensively as he fell in step with Connor, “I arrived to the throne room a bit after they brought it in… It’s this young man… though I’d hardly call him that given his appearance and behavior… It’s… hard to explain the entire situation, it might be easier to just wait until we get there to see for yourself…”

 

After that, he fell silent beside Connor, which the latter didn’t take as a good sign. What about the young man’s appearance and behavior? Looking closer at the guard, he seemed to be quite on edge, so that was obviously not a very good sign. Connor took another deep breath as they made their way through the corridors and down a few flights of stone stairs. Not only was he getting extremely anxious over just being called down to face his parents in the throne room, but now he was getting agitated thinking about who, or what, was also waiting for him for when he arrived. 

 

Turning the final corner, he could see the giant ebony doors that opened to the throne room, which caused his stomach to drop again. He  _ really _ did not want to be heading into that forsaken room right now. What could he possibly have to do with whatever insane person they had brought in that the guard had described? Obviously he had done something wrong and his punishment had something to do with the young man, that was always the case. But he had stayed holed up in his room for almost the whole week, he couldn’t have broken any rules or made his parents mad in the very little time he spent actually out of the room when he had barely  _ seen _ them while he was out of the room, could he? Was there a rule about being in his room too long? He hoped and prayed there wasn’t as the doors were opened, and he stepped tenderly over the threshold.  

 

He bowed low upon entering and held for a few moments before straightening up, daring to glance carefully in the direction of the thrones and of their majesties themselves. 

 

The king and queen sat on almost identical large and elaborate thrones, the only difference between the two was the king’s was a raven black, and the queens was a deep amethyst. They both has velvet seats framed with swirling and intricate designs of dark steel and endless precious jewels that glimmered when even the smallest trace of light hit them. Their majesties themselves wore royal garbs that were no less detailed, with ornate patterns and needlework flowing over almost every inch on the queen’s painstakingly complex and inky black gown, and with matching designs embroidered all across the king’s dark violet robes and formal attire. The both of them sat as stiff as boards on their thrones, staring coldly down at Connor as usual as he took a few more careful and tentative steps deeper into the room.

 

His parent’s intense and callous focus on him would normally make him feel as if hole was being bore into his head, but his attention was not currently on the king and queen. Rather, on the chained bundle that had resumed thrashing around at their feet.

 

Thick and strong iron shackles were latched all over the young man, creaking loudly as he threatened to break the several bounds on his wrists and ankles as he thrashed violently. A cage-like bond we secured tightly around his entire torso in a way that should have made it fairly impossible for him to move, but he seemed to be continuing his writhing with ease.

 

Connor could make out some facial features whenever the guy paused for a split second to take a breath. The young man has several scars cutting across his face, and Connor could only imagine just how many more he might have all over his body given the state of his face. His hair was inky black and brushed back with various small clumps of caked on dirt. Connor also noted on several patches of dark grey scales that were scattered over his half-exposed body, given that all his thrashing had caused his dark and dirty clothing to rip quite a bit, revealing a sturdy and strong looking frame.

 

The young man paused for a moment, looking down at the ground while taking in heaving breaths, somehow looking barely tired from the endless thrashing he had done. Connor took another step forward, and the young man’s head shot up, causing Connor’s stomach to drop. 

 

He looked up at Connor, locking eyes with him. Or,  _ eye, _ in this case. The guy’s left eye had a thick scar cutting down across it, leaving the iris a pale, almost white, green. His right eye, on the other hand, was just as strange. It was green, and reptilian. Gorgeous gold flecks sparkled in the sea green around the obsidian slit of his pupil as he gazed up at Connor. His face was built, with a strong jawline and a every so slightly crooked nose, he seemed pretty ruggedly handsome to Connor. A charming but sly smirk spread across his lips, and it showed off his rows of glimmering razor sharp fangs. 

 

Connor could go on, but the king’s rough and booming voice jolted him back to attention with an involuntary flinch. “Boy! You acknowledge your superiors, not the piece of filth we called you down here about!” 

 

Connor broke eye contact with the prisoner, deeply bowing once more towards the king and queen. “My apologies, your highnesses. It won’t happen again.” He said quietly, remained bowed until he heard the king grumble a sign to straighten back up. As soon as he did, though, the young man in chains began to cackle.

 

“Already pissed off daddy dearest, did we princess?” He howled, making his chains clatter against the stone ground as he laughed. “That was fast as fuck, lessee ‘ow fast yer can piss off yer mommy!”

 

The prisoner began cackling again as guards came from either side of the room to try and control him as he thrashed around once more.

 

Connor could only stare down at the writhing prisoner in complete and utter disbelief. Obviously he had been here long enough to get a fairly good understanding of what type of no nonsense people the king and queen were, and more than likely had already had quite a few punishments doled out to him before Connor had even been summoned to the throne room. How could he continue to be so cocky? How could he be so courageous as to relentlessly continues to disobey the king and queen with swearing, rude remarks, and echoing howls of laughter?

 

The prisoner noticed Connor all but gaping at him and leered back up at him. “Do yer like what yer see, princess~? ‘Cause I ‘ear we’re going t’ be stuck to each other fer quite some time~”   
  
“Enough!’ The king burst out, clutching the armrests of his throne tightly. He pointed at the prisoner. “I want that muzzle put back on him right this instant!”

 

One of the guards that had been trying to get the prisoner back under control stood up and ran out of the throne room, returning but a few seconds later with a small and rusted looking cage with thick iron bars and leather straps. He and the other guard wrestled to get it on the prisoner, their grunts masked by a loud shout of “KINKY~” every few moments, until it was secured in place on the prisoner’s face. 

 

Connor winced. He’d seen that forsaken muzzle put on quite a few other prisoners prior to today, given that most of them were foul mouthed and his parents never had any patience for their shenanigans. He hated that thing. It was old, and in need of replacement, seeing as his parents were too cold to actually stop using it altogether. Rusted and jagged pieces of metal and nails threatened to injure the wearer, and it was highly likely that the guardsmen always pulled the leather straps much too tight to be safe. Connor couldn’t wait for the day it was strapped onto someone who could crumble the old dastardly thing to pieces, giving their majesties a good run for their money. 

 

As the guards finished up securing the muzzle onto the prisoner, stepping back to admire their work, it seemed as though Connor would get his wish today. The prisoner just stared boredly at the two triumphant guards, as if to say ‘do you really think this makes a difference?’ which Connor highly doubted it did. A few moments later though, when the king cleared his throat and prepared to speak once more, the prisoner opened his jaw forcefully, snapping the rusted muzzle in half and letting the pieces fall to the ground.

 

Connor had to do everything to bite his tongue and keep from bursting out laughing himself. The king’s face instantly changed from stony and composed, to crimson red and furious. The queen placed a startle hand over her mouth as her face flushed, and the guards looked crestfallen. The prisoner, however, looked absolutely gleeful.

 

“YER GONNA ‘AFTA TRY ‘ARDER THAN THAT YER FUCKERS! YER FUCKED UP METAL WON’ KEEP ME QUIET! I’M TH’ REAL KING AROUND ‘EAR, HA!” He roared, throwing his head back with laughter. The king stood up, commanding the guards to go and fetch a spare muzzle that, of course, they had. He was barely heard over the prisoners howls, though, and had to shout to be heard over him. The two guards went rushing out of the room as fast as they could manage, and they royals were left with the cackling prisoner.

 

No one said anything, leaving the prisoners laughs and barrages of insults directed at the king and queen the only thing to be heard for the next few minutes in the grand throne room. Connor wished so badly that he could find a way to get him to stop. Insulting his parents always ended horribly for perpetrator and anyone else who might be involved. He didn’t want to see this young man on anything close to the gallows or execution hall. But his parents only seemed to be fuming.

 

After the guards returned with a brand new, unrusted and shiny muzzle, they spent the next few minutes trying to wrestle  _ that  _ one onto him, his usually dirty remarks and swear-filled insults echoing throughout the room as Connor’s parents turned their focus back to him. He ducked his gaze from theirs once more. 

 

The king and queen waited a few moments after the muzzle seemed secure, watching as the prisoner tried to open his jaw repeatedly. He got angry after he couldn’t break it, shaking his head a few times like a dog, before returning to his original movements of violently thrashing around. 

 

_ How does he still have so much energy? _ Connor thought, staring bewilderedly at the writhing heap until the king cleared his throat and Connor’s head snapped up and back to attention. The king took a deep breath.

 

“As this inane and monstrous...  _ thing  _ stated, you will indeed be spending quite some time with him.” His father began, gesturing over to the prisoner, who had stopped writhing for a moment to stare intently at Connor, a strange twinkle in his eye that told Connor that he probably wouldn’t like the guy very much if he was unchained. Connor thought he could see a devilish plastered on his face through the bars of the muzzle, but looked away quickly as a faint blush begun to fill his cheeks.   
  


“As you know, the winter festival is coming up in but a few months. And as such, with it brings noblemen and other members of royalty from far and wide to gather in our kingdom for the merriment.” He paused, taking in another breath. “It also garners…  _ unwanted  _ attention, as well.”

 

Connor furrowed his brow. He understood what the king meant. The festival was a big deal, attracting all sorts of different crowds of people from different lands and backgrounds. That including dangerous kinds, such as hired assassins or those who conspired to take over the kingdom. Though what he didn’t understand, was why he was here right now of all times. The festival was a little more than three months away. He didn’t understand what that had to do with him being here right now, or what it had to do with the guy chained to the ground, who had taken to winking suggestively in Connor’s direction, which he both ignored and took as a sign that he had finally tired himself out completely. 

 

The queen clapped her hands eagerly together sharply, the sound echoing through the throne room for a moment after. “After the incident that so tragically happened last year, we’ve decided to take a few preventive measures to safeguard the kingdom better. Namely, with you.”

 

“You haven’t done one thing in your short existence living in our palace to prove your worth to us or to pull your own weight.” The king said, waving a hand dismissively at Connor. “But we do firmly believe that if you were severely harmed or worse during such a big event, it would only attract more bad attention to the kingdom. So we have decided to be proactive and provide a course of action against any possible threats that may arise in the coming months.”

 

The queen gestured down at the prisoner. “This little monster is called Victor Ayers. We acquired him some time ago after he had one too many run ins with the palace and town guards. Even just glancing at him, he’s highly imperfect, and much too wild to be put to work as a knight or soldier of any kind, so we had him put in the gladiator ring for the time being.” 

 

She flashed Connor a thin smile. “We believe that he would provide an adequate protection in defending you from any possible conspirators who seek to throw the kingdom into chaos and mayhem, while still ensuring you don’t get too… comfortable.”

 

Connor tried to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat. They were completely right. He hadn’t done anything worthwhile in his time being a member of the royal family and taking up board in the palace. And he certainly didn’t do enough to just merely stay out of his parents way, given all the countless times he had found some way to upset his parents.

 

But this Victor guy… How bad was he? From the way his parents spoke of him, Connor got the bad feeling that this was some sort of prolonged punishment with the added benefit of protection from outside forces. Which only had him wracking his mind all over again for what he could have possibly done wrong since his last transgression. It had to have been something bad, considering this guy seemed like he would attack Connor at first chance without a second thought. 

 

The king raised his hand, signalling to the guards. They began to undo the chains that connected the shackles to the ground and latch them to each other for better transport. One was handed to a taken aback Connor,almost like a leash being handed to an owner, while the two guards took the others. Connor could make out what he believe to be a low and muffled snicker coming from Victor. He didn’t know what the guy could possibly be thinking, but if he had to guess, he knew he probably wouldn’t like the answer, so he just ignored him.

 

“Get acquainted with controlling him, and we’ll see how you are fairing come dinnertime.” The king said dismissively. “And then we can decide if he’s fit to stay with you until the festival has ended completely.”

 

The king shooed a hand at Connor, before turning away to speak quietly with his wife. Connor reluctantly glanced once more at Victor, who was back to winking suggestively, before turning to leave the throne room with the two guards and Victor in tow.

 

As he walked back to his quarters, he tried to think of every possible way this situation could go wrong. He thought of many in the short amount of time, and the outcome of all ended terribly for him.

 

He really didn’t know how he could feel good about this situation.  


	2. Victor

  
“Which one of you low-lives is called Victor Ayers?”

 

Vic ignored the guy who was shouting his name at the front of the prison he was locked in with a few other freaks. The guy had either been sent to pick up some fresh new idiots to fight an early morning blood bath for the glee of the losers they called royalty, and anybody willing to pay a pretty penny for a seat, or he was here because Vic had done something wrong again that had completely escaped his mind once again. Either could easily be right, and, knowing the way his luck always went, the problem could be both at the same time.

He crossed his arms lazily over his chest and kept his eyes firmly closed. It was way too early for this kind of bullshit. He was well past sick of getting woken up before the sun had even risen, and missed the days when he could just spend half the day asleep until he was yelled at to get up and get something done.

 

But with how long it took to get him ready and in some stupid costume for the crowd to laugh at that he would just tear off in two seconds, and then how many times the orderlies and guards had to scold or punish him in a day for all the things she couldn't resist doing there wasn’t any time left in the day for some extra shut eye, and he doubted anybody would let him use any free time he managed to acquire unless they felt like giving.

 

Unless of course, you just ignored the guards commands and did whatever the fuck you wanted to anyway, which was also a great option. Plus, it was pretty hilarious to watch them squirm in frustration.

 

What he couldn’t ignore, though, was the hand that was tapping his shoulder a little bit too eagerly. He knew who it was, given the only one who would dare to so much as come near him was a certain magical bastard that hadn’t left him alone in the entire length time the both of them had been stuck as combatants in this fucked up arena.

 

“Th’ fuck yer want?” He growled, opening an eye to look over at the idiot who was abusing his shoulder, and grunted when he saw who he knew it was.

 

Hyperactive, perverted, and as dumb as a bag of rocks, Frank was a textbook young thug in this town, and Vic still didn’t understand how he pissed off their royal douchiness’ enough to throw him in a ring full of gladiators and warriors hellbent on destroying everything in their wake for the entertainment of some rich bastards.

 

The guy somehow always figured out a new way to escape at least once a week without fail, and would then seemingly disappear from existence for a varied amount of time before he was inevitably dragged back to the dungeon and thrown in unceremoniously yet again. How he kept escaping so many times over and over, Vic sure didn’t know, but he assumed that if they guy kept it up and wasn’t more careful, the next place he'd be being thrown is into the executioners pit. Maybe then Vic’d finally get some peace and quiet.

 

“Hey boss, watch this.” He whispered gleefully, jumping up to his feet half a second later. Vic groaned to himself. ‘Watch this’ always meant ‘I’m about to get myself and probably all of my cellmates into a heaping amount of trouble but I’ll have a blast at least so that makes it completely fine’. This was the opposite of what Vic wanted to be going on right now, but once Frank got going, there was little to no stopping him. Unless you overexerted yourself or started a jail fight, but it was almost always easier to just let him get whatever it was he wanted to do over with, accept whatever punishment ended up getting doled out, and be done with it.

 

Vic and the rest of their cellmates watched Frank boredly as he strolled to the front on the cell, raising a hand as he approached the orderly who had called for Vic from the other side of the bars.

 

“That’s me!” He announced, earning a short snort of a laugh from one of the other prisoners. The orderly just looked up from his parchment and stared at Frank in utter disbelief.  
  
“ _You’re_ Victor Ayers?”  
  
“Yep!”  
  
The man crossed his arms. “You’re the loose cannon reptilian gladiator I was sent to retrieve?”

 

Frank shrugged dismissively. “I ate a lizard once, so I guess that counts.”

 

This was followed by some scattered quiet laughter around the dungeon cell. Vic raised an eyebrow. Now he was interested. There was no way Frank could keep this stupid act up for very long. He obviously assumed the orderly was here to take someone out to a battle, and Vic and Frank were usually at arms against each other for the most fighting opportunities, Frank, because wanted glory and fame or something, and Vic, because he needed a way to get his rage out. But seeing this fool crash and burn would honestly make his day, and he had high hopes that Frank would indeed completely fail at fooling the orderly, no matter how stupid the guy probably was.

 

The orderly stared at Frank for another moment, before slowly nodding. He gestured to a guard to unlock the prison door. “Well that’s fortunate. I appreciate you coming up here so quickly and willingly. Makes my job of taking you cretin to stand before the king and queen themselves.”

 

At that, the entire room went silent. Frank had turned paler than a fresh sheet, and nobody was laughing anymore.

 

Well, no one except Victor.

 

Victor had burst out laughing as soon as the words left the orderly’s mouth, the look on Frank’s face being all too much for him to contain his howls at. Everyone turned to look at him as he continued to roar with laughter and stood up.

 

“If th’ goal was to make a complete fool of yerself an’ get yerself into a giant pile of trouble with these assholes-” He sniggered, gesturing at the guard who was opening the cell door. “Then I’m glad yer woke me up an’ impersonated me for this!”

 

Vic doubled over laughing all over again, the guard throwing him a sour face as he yanked Frank out of the cell by his shirt front. Frank tried to protest and wrench his way out of the guard's grip, but the guy simply shoved him towards another guard and let him deal with him. Frank’s constant shenanigans were one of the constants in this hellhole, and all the guards’ patience with him ran very thin to begin with.

 

“I’LL BE _BACK_ .” Frank shouted with a hint of humor to his voice, swinging his arms around and kicking his feet against the dirt ground as he was dragged away by the guard. “I’LL JUST ESCAPE AGAIN AND YOU GUYS WILL SEE ME AGAIN IN A MONTH, JUST YOU _WAIT_!”

 

The loud-mouthed fool’s shouting continued on as he was dragged further and further down the hall and out of the dungeon, finally fading away completely with the loud clattering opening and shutting of the dungeon’s main door. The orderly let out a deep and tired sigh, before looking up towards Victor.

 

“And you are the man I am looking for, I presume?”

 

Victor tried to feign a look of innocence, but it was quite difficult. given just how he was as a person. “Oi!” He exclaimed, attempting to look confused and offended. “Yer can’t possibly know tha’! I’m just a random guy yer shouting at!”

 

“No, you’re not, and yes, I can. You just shouted your head off at that ridiculous other young man for ‘impersonating’ you, Victor. Ayers.”

 

Vic scowled at the other man, cursing to himself. Guess the guy wasn’t as stupid as the rest of the guys who ran the dungeon and arena fights. Looking at him better, he seemed more like some fancy-ass nobleman sent from the castle itself to come and get him. That set his stomach pretty uneasy, not that he was actually all that worried. He’d figure it out, no matter what they tried to throw at him , he’d always figure out how to get out of it or turn it for the better. It’s just how he was.

 

Victor shoved his hands into his pockets, swaying over to the guard who had been standing at the prison door waiting for him to come on over. Once he was a foot away, he stopped, spitting at the guard’s feet with a sneer and a snicker. The guard only gave an annoyed grunt in reply, which wasn’t the rely Victor had been hoping for. The guard snatched Victor’s arms, effectively  pulling his hands out of his pockets, before locking a thick pair of iron shackles to his wrists. A chain hung down from in between the cuffs, there so the guard could pull him along as if he were on a leash. Victor could only grin.

 

“Seems just a little bit forward, sweet cheeks, but yer know I’m down if yer down~.” He said lewdly, topping his comment off with a loud wolf whistle that had all of the prisoners in the cell chuckling to themselves again. The guard only glared down at him.  
  
“If you take like that in front or directed towards the king or the queen, you might just get yourself summoned for a public beheading, and not just for a simple job offer and discussion.”

 

Vic flashed a cocky smile at the guy. “A job offer and discussion yer say? With their majesties themselves? That sounds wonderful, babe, but I think I’ll ‘ave to go with the public be’eading over tha’ bullshit, if I may choose.”

 

They locked eyes, staring each other down for a moment. The guard fixed him with a deathly serious stare, while Victor only shittily grinned back up at the guy. The guard was half a foot taller than Victor, built, and cloaked in armor. He so obviously wanted to do something to punish the latter for speaking so lowly of the throne. But, shackles or not, Victor could destroy him in mere seconds flat, before anyone could so much as blink an eye. He knew that, and so did Victor, who only continued to grin cheekily up at the guard.

 

They both heard the orderly clear his throat, and the guard’s expression turned to one of anger and annoyance. He let out a growl under his breath.

 

“I’ll deal with you later.” He grunted, jabbing a finger into Victor’s chest, which was probably a mistake. The latter let out a deep but loud hissing growl on contact with a dark expression on his face, filling the entire dungeon in the echoing sound, and sending chills down everyone’s spines. A moment later, Vic flashed another lewd smile at the guard.

 

“I’d love to see what yer got planned fer me, sweet cheeks~.” He crooned, walking by the guard and out of the cell door until the chain that led to the guard’s hand ran out. “But I think I might just be a little too busy doing whatever those royal assholes want me to do to care what you might ‘ave planned~.”

 

He began to cackle as soon as the guard’s face turned beet red with anger, throwing his head back with laughter. He stopped abruptly when a cold, rough weight locked onto his neck, followed by a snapped around his waist. Before he could react, he was shoved back up into a normal standing position, and a loud clicking sound echoed through the stone-lined hall. The orderly came around from behind him with two more shackles that looked similar to the ones that were locked around his wrists, kneeling down to attach them to Victor’s ankles.

 

“Yer kneeling down better ‘ave something to do with all this kinky shit, or else I’m gonna be real upset, and real ‘orny.” Victor grumbled, trying to adjust in the weird contraption that was locked against his back like some sort of cage. The orderly simply finished locking the cuffs around Victor’s ankles, and stood up with a bored and slightly bemused look on his face.

 

“Sorry to disappoint.” He said with a thin smile. “But I’m just ensuring that you won’t be capable of running off anyplace very fast. Your just going to have to settle with being quite upset and horny, I assume.”

 

Victor grunted in annoyance. They’d never put so many bindings on him to transport him anytime before, not even half as many. They usually kept him in whatever would look the best to the public and kept it understood that if he so much as tried to escape or break the shackles, they would go after his family for punishment. That was the main reason he was stuck here in the first place, and it was a reason that made him feel terrible every single day. He despised this kingdom, the entire royal family, and those who chose to work for such a despicable people. They were more than likely binding him in so much because of the fact that they were taking him to see the king and queen. They didn’t know what he would try to do, and given, he would probably try and claw those fuckers’ eyes out the second he got the chance, if not much more than that.

 

They’d given him a life of hell beginning  a few years ago, when he had been barely a teenager, and put the weight of those he loved lives on his shoulders. Hate had been festering inside of him for years as he learned the rough ways of everything without anybody showing him the way or the ropes of surviving this hellhole. He learned how to spot someone to trust pretty quickly, and even then, he wasn’t the type to hand his trust to really anyone. That’s how you got killed. Trusting too easily, or letting your own hothead get the best of you in the wrong place and with the wrong people. Like getting ready to rip out their majesties throats the second you spotted a chance. But taking down those two sadistic tyrants would be something Victor would happily die for, so long as he took at least the two of them with him.

 

The guard suddenly yanked at the chain connecting to Victor’s wrist shackles roughly, trying to get Victor’s attention and lead him down the hall. All he got in reply was a low and fake moan. “Harder~.” Vic whispered lowly, waggling his eyebrows at the guard as the latter let out a deep sigh of frustration.

 

Victor allowed himself to be pulled along in mostly silence as they made their way through the dungeon’s underground tunnels and doorways, only making a lewd remark here and there when the opportunity arised or he got too bored of the stoic silence that filled the dirty halls around the light sounds of their footsteps, and the clanging clatter of the chains and iron going every which way over Victor’s body.

 

The dungeon was fairly dim lit, so when the guard opened a door leading to the palace, he had to blink and squint until his vision adjusted. The arena he fought at was a good ways behind the grand castle, going in the opposite direction that the guard had taken him from his cell block, so he hadn’t actually been inside the palace since he had first arrived at this hellish place those few years ago.

 

Ironically, he’d been taken to the throne room that same day for roughly the same reason, the offering of a ‘job’ for getting too snide towards some of the high ranking guards and personnel. The way those royal asshole spoke… How high and mighty they acted despite being worse than the rats and roaches that scurried around the dungeons… How happy he would be to burn the whole palace down with those scumbags in it and run back home…

 

The giant raven doors opened with a loud clunking sound, displaying the large, brightly lit, and ornately decorated throne room to the guard and Victor, but Victor’s intense gaze was only on their two majesties, sitting in the middle and back of the large room on their pretty little thrones cloaked in endless sparkling jewels and two deep, ice cold frowns as they stared back at Victor. Victor sneered.

 

“Oi fuckers!” He shouted, taking only a split second pause to grin wider as the guard that was leading him into the room gasped loudly. “‘Ow’s ruining peoples’ lives going fer yer? Enjoying being the bane of everyone’s existence or do yer ‘ate doing tha’ too? Yer big fucking ass’oles!”

 

A few guards beared arms and made moves to run to Victor, to silence him. The guard in front of him yanked his chain and drew his sword in anger as well, but the queen simply raised a hand and they all stood back to attention, stiff as boards but glaringover at Victor who felt like he was having a field day. He cackled as he strolled further into the room.

 

“Funny tha’ yer telling all these fuckers to keep away from me. Yer both know just ‘ow badly I want to destroy the both of yer.” he growled lowly, his voice echoing eerily throughout the grand hall. The king raised a hand and two guards moves from the far side of the room with a strange iron contraption in their hands. Victor snarled louder at them, but the guard that held his chains only yanked him close and pulled the chain taught, keeping him as bound as the guard was capable of.

 

The two guards attempted to get the thing they had onto Victor’s head, but he snapped his jaws at them, nearly taking one of their fingers off in the process. A couple more guard rushed over to try and assist, but Victor began to violently thrash. A few of the guards jumped on him and dragged him to the ground, while others held his jaw closed as best as they could while the original two slid the locked the rusted device over his face and jaw, Victor realizing it was a muzzle meant to keep him quiet.

 

There was no way in hell this thing was going to stay on his face. It felt like it was going to break if he so much as tried to open his jaw, much less if he was actually trying to break it. He ceased thrashing and moving too much. He didn’t want it to break, not yet. Smiling to himself, he complied with the guards lifting him to his feet and yanking his chains over closer to the thrones. He couldn’t wait to see the look on everyone’s faces when it was the perfect moment to shatter this damn thing.

 

His chains and shackles were secured to metal hooks in the ground, locking him in place and forcefully bringing him down to his knees in front of their majesties themselves. He smiled maliciously up at them, but received no reaction back.

 

“Victor Ayers.” The king began, shifting slightly in his throne with a dark look on his face. “We have brought you here with the offer of a new job, should you be so interested.”

 

He waited a moment, as if waiting for a reply that wouldn’t come. Victor couldn’t, well, wouldn’t, speak. But he did aim some spit through his teeth to spray at the king and queens feet. They ignored it.

 

“You have been fighting in the royal arena for years, climbing the ranks remarkably fast and remaining in the top fighting spot for seemingly endless months and battles.” The queen stated, a faint but cold smile flickering at the corners of her mouth. “Seeing how ruthless you can be to pure strangers and possibly close friends, no matter their size or strengths, why, I believed you would be an absolutely perfect fit for our job offer.”

 

Victor glared up at them. They somehow found a way to speak in a friendly manner that was still so ice cold and cruel sounding. He replied with another low growl that resonated the grand hall, but the king and queen only chuckled lightly.

 

“Now now, Ayers, you’ll more than likely enjoy this job than your current one.” The king smirked. His wife patted her lap at Victor like she was about to speak to a happy puppy dog.

 

“You see, Victor, the prince, Connor, is quite the runt of the litter. He’s small and sickly, spending most of his days up in his room and avoiding the very people who just want to do what’s best for a little cretin like him. He doesn’t do a thing for the kingdom, let alone the castle or his own parents. But what he does do is attract a lot of… _bad_ attention. From unwanted sources.” She crooned, her cold smile growing slightly across her face. “And that is where you would come in.”

 

The both of them paused for a moment, as if allowing this all to sink in Victor’s mind. He only glared back at them and sprayed more saliva towards them.

 

“You would be a personal guard for him, essentially. Protecting him from anyone who wishes to do him harm, while still maybe roughing him up every day or so to keep the little gremlin in place.” The queen stated, ignoring Victor’s actions almost completely. “The only difference between you and our knights being that we would never accept such a lowly sewer rat into the royal family to any level or capacity.”

 

She and the king laughed as Victor scowled up at them. He despised those two with every ounce of his being, but this new job… it could be his first ticket out of this hellish kingdom. From the way the described their son, he would be easy to take care of when the time was right, and then he could get out of this forsaken kingdom and find his family, getting them as far away as possible where these two couldn’t reach them anymore.

 

It all seemed too good to be true. It couldn’t be this easy to get away, could it? The king raised a hand once more and two guards came forward to removes the muzzle from Victor’s face, so as to allow him to answer their majesties’ proposal. Victor grinned up at them.

 

“Y’know I was pretty fucking surprised when I realized yer two shit’eads were stupid enough to let me in the castle.” He snarled, earning glares from the guards that still stood over him. “I’ve wanted to get rid of yer for so long, I thought yer had a deathwish or something when I was dragged into ‘ere.” He spat at them once more for good measure, before letting out a cackles that boomed through the hall.

 

“I accept yer stupid job, but good luck trying to keep me from running wild through these stupid halls and doin’ everything I can to make yer lives a living ‘ell!”

 

As the two guards tried to get him back under control, the queen called over a knight that had been standing nearby, whispering something into his ear. He nodded, and ran out the doors that Victor had initially come from.

 

Victor began thrashing again as he laughed, ignoring the terrified stares from the guards as he did so. He wanted to scare the complete crap out of as many people here as he could, and if he managed to break the chains that bound him as well, then that would be a wonderful bonus. He’d love to run around the throne room for a minute, scaring and slashing at anyone who dare to come close, before attacking the king and queen. Sadly though, the chains didn’t do much more than strain a bit here and there in th next few minutes, before he could hear the throne room doors open again. 

 

Victor wished desperately that he hadn’t turned and looked up.

 

The prince stood in the large doorway, taking a few soft steps into the room before pausing to look back at him. He had wavy light brown hair that curled down his forehead slightly, with bright emerald green eyes that sparkled from halfway across the grand hall. His face seemed soft, with fair skin and rosy cheeks that complimented his cutely curved upward nose. His small and thin frame was hunched over slightly, as if timid to make any sort of entrance. He wore a simple white linen shirt with a lavender blazer buttoned halfway down the front and light grey pants that loosely hugged his wiry legs.

 

Vic had to duck his head down… That kid was  _ gorgeous _ .

 

The king called him over, and Victor tried to sneak another glance as the prince came closer. The prince looked down at him with his big and gorgeous eyes, nothing but innocence, curiosity, and kindness radiating off of them as he did so. The kid hadn’t even spoken yet and he was already sending Victor to an early grave. 

He spent the next few minutes trying to play it cool, trying to be his usual snarky and flirty self, getting nothing but uncomfortable looks from the guards and the prince himself. But inside, he was falling apart. 

He hated the royal family and anyone who had anything to do with it, and he had always cackled about how he would one day find a way to destroy the royal bloodline and get revenge on them for all the bad they had done. But this prince? He seemed… kind. As if he was the odd one out in this forsaken family. Victor didn’t even know him, didn’t even trust him, yet, this prince was shaking the very foundation he stood on. 

Just looking at this kid? Victor found himself questioning just what in hell he was going to do about this situation that he had stumbled into. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoooo today was a successful writing day! Got like.... 2000 words done yup....

**Author's Note:**

> Well this is a thing now. Thanks a lot for being so fricking slow docs. I've found someplace new to put this so IN YO FACE.
> 
> Yes, Ryuu, I do indeedy plan on working on this a bunch and twisting your heart strings with this OC AU. I wish you luck, you know how good I am at angst. (Don't worry though, I have some Good scenes already scratched down for our boys, you just gotta wait a bit >:3c)


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